Hi everyone!

As some of you may know, I posted a poll in Chapter 12 about smut in Chapter 13, and a lot of you wanted some smut at least. As the next plot in my story didn't actively involve smut, I did some brainstorming and came up with this. So, this chapter and the next chapter would also be able to function as a Stand Alone, but aside from the whole smut-thing, I wanted to include them here anyway because they fit how Harry and Hermione act in this story as well. Harry has been pleasing Hermione - but he's been neglecting himself a little bit. Why is that? Hermione is going to find out!

I reached 20.000 views last night. 20.000! Aargh! You guys are killing me! Thank you so much for your support - it means the world to me. I hope you are all safe and this story can serve as a pick-me-up in trying times.

Love,

Flora

Chapter 13: How Hermione asked Harry some very personal questions.

The next days felt like something out of a dream, or something out of a very cliché Hollywood-movie. The first years of her life, Hermione thought she hated romcoms. She associated it with her time at primary school: a time where girls that were regarded as "popular" would not invite her to sleepovers where they would watch such films and gush about the male leads and their unrealistic romantic antics. On top of that, her parents thought those films were too shallow for her, so she watched a lot of documentaries, or movies based on real life events. And then she got into Hogwarts, where movies weren't a thing at all. But then...

It was one of the first things they had decided after the war: now was the time to live their lives and have some fun. Ron, Harry and herself would get to pick an activity each month - not only to have fun, but to spend some time together, to get to know each other even better, to bond over something that wasn't hurtful. One of the first things Hermione could think of to do with her best friends was to go and see a Muggle movie. She guessed Ron had never seen a movie in a theater, so it was exciting to show him something he wasn't familiar with, but she was shocked to find out Harry had never been to one as well, as his aunt and uncle never wanted to waste money on him. Upon hearing that, she was sure she was going to take them to a cinema, and she was going to pay for their fizzy softdrinks and buttered popcorn as well.

When deciding on what movie to pick that summer in Australia, on their way to retrace their parents, her options were limited. There was Saving Private Ryan, Mulan, Blade - all good movies, but they all had to do with bloody war, and she figured they'd had enough of that. So, she picked a romantic comedy, named "There's Something About Mary", and there was an awful scene involving a penis that got stuck in a zipper and semen that was used as hairgel, but it made them laugh. It made them forget. Ron had talked hours and hours about all the Muggle inventions that he had seen in the movie and just didn't understand, and they had made it a ritual of sorts to go to the theater more often. Somehow, they always ended up picking romcoms, because it was safe. It gave no bad memories, just happiness, silliness, goodness. She had enjoyed the movies, but she'd always feel some kind of weird envy as well, because in romcoms, the guy always got the girl, and always with some crappy romantic gesture, and always with a sappy song playing in the background. Her parents had been right - it was shallow, but at the same time, she would have given up anything in the world to be one of those girls.

And now, she actually was, and she didn't have to give up. When she woke up, she would find a very charming man in her bed, with stubble, muscles, soft lips and caring arms. He could cook, he was athletic, he was heroic, he was irresistible - sometimes literally, as she ran late for work and Harry still managed to pull her into the shower with him or pin her down on the bed once more. He was caring, passionate, attentive to her needs: Hermione would always, always receive at least one climax when she was with Harry, and he would be thoughtful and communicative in the process. And of course, he was Harry, so he was the sweetest, most lovable guy she knew. She had no idea how Harry managed to pack so much tenderness inside his bruised and battered body, as his soul surely must have been hardened by the war, but it seemed that Harry wouldn't let it change him. He grieved, he felt pain, he even had nightmares sometimes, as Hermione noticed on the third day when Harry woke up so distraught that she had to get out of bed to fetch a glass of water for him - but he didn't turn bitter. He had seen enough hatred in the world, and as it seemed, he was determined to fill it with love and nothing but love. She gladly helped him with that.

Of course, Harry wasn't perfect. He had accidentally farted when they went to sleep on December the 27th, but he found Hermione's appalled reaction so funny, that he kept doing it on purpose, just to put her off. He hogged the bathroom. He didn't talk about things that genuinely bothered him, like the losses he suffered, or bad things at work, or his past. The drool he produced in his sleep was quite possibly enough to fill an entire pond with. And, of course, there was that other thing regarding their intimacy that she thought about a lot, but never voiced to him.

But, all that aside, it was the epitome of happiness: a true, gut-wrenching, gag-reflex activating display of a sickeningly sweet romance. When she woke up on the morning of the 29th, a Tuesday, and she noticed how Harry snored softly in his pillow, she felt nothing but love when she looked at her boyfriend: she didn't care that his hair looked like it had exploded on his face, that he had wrinkles of the cushion pressed into his cheeks, that he was currently doing his best to drown his poor pillow in saliva, that he emitted an odor that could also be smelled around wild boars - she found him bloody adorable and incredibly attractive. So she placed a kiss on his cheek, and on his temple, and on his forehead, and on his scar: she peppered kisses all across his face until Harry grumbled and started squinting his eyes.

'Hello, mister Potter,' she chuckled. 'This is your wake-up call.'

'Hmmfb,' Harry replied, wiping his mouth and rolling his head to the other side.

'As you implied yesterday you wanted to shower this morning, so I woke you a bit earlier than I normally would. Would you like to use my snooze button?'

Harry groaned and opened one eye, but closed it again when he saw her.

'Yes.'

'Alright. But this alarm needs to remind you that you will miss out on shared showertime...'

She slowly began to undress, lifting her tanktop over her head very casually exposing her naked back to Harry. Then she stood up and bend over to let down her underwear. She did it deliberately as calm as she could, and indeed, when she was fully unclothed, she felt Harry's frame press against her, his arousal very prominently pushed against her back.

'You are killing me, Hermione,' he groaned again. His lips caressed the nape of her neck, her hands slowly stroking her arms, then her sides, then focusing on her breasts. Hermione sighed and leaned back into his arms, as he let his right hand sneak between her legs. He softly played with her left nipple, as the fingers on his right hand slowly opened up her folds, spreading her wetness over her entire core.

'Harry, we should actually shower,' Hermione panted. 'We don't have that much time, and I don't want to be late again for work...'

To her surprise, he let go of her, and she immediately winced at the loss of his warmth. She told him to stop, but she didn't want him to stop, and luckily Harry knew her well enough as he stood in front of her and removed his clothes as well. He snogged her, pressing their tongues intensely together, and then he got onto his knees in front of her. Hermione didn't understand, until Harry took a hold of her hips and slowly placed a kiss on her vagina.

'Harry!' she gasped, surprised, because they had never tried this position before, but when she looked down and saw Harry look up - crazed hair and brightly shining eyes, that looked extremely bemused and enticing at the same time, she couldn't have been more aroused. Making a mental note of how Harry sat in front of her, she placed her hands into his black locks, pushing him wantingly closer against her, and she felt Harry snicker against her core.

Climaxing standing up was a challenge for Hermione, because her legs felt like mush and she had to put a lot of effort into not collapsing into the floor, so when she was almost there, Harry stood up, scooped her in his arms and used his fingers to push her over the edge. She whined against his skin, and he grinned, and placed kisses on her eyebrows.

'You are being too good,' Hermione mumbled, relishing in his embrace, and he smiled proudly.

'I know. Now, let's shower.'

'Nuh-uh,' Hermione said, smiling seductively. 'You can't do that to me and not expect me to want to touch you too.'

She started to roam her hands over Harry's chest, but he shook his head.

'Believe me, I'd love to, but you were kind of right. We don't have that much time.'

'Harry...' Hermione protested, kissing his neck, trying to reach that place that made Harry's breath hitch.

'I'm serious,' he decided. 'Maybe tonight. Let's go.'

See? The voice in Hermione's head said. He's avoiding you! They showered - Harry way quicker than her, and she was braiding her hair when she walked out into her little kitchen, where Harry was setting the table.

'I made scrambled eggs,' he said, smiling broadly. 'Gosh, it's Tuesday already... I can't believe it was actually a week ago when we decided not to kiss again. Would you have then predicted us to be at this stage of our relationship by next week? It's so great, it's better than I ever imagined it would be!'

He kissed her cheek and pulled her chair away from the table, so she could sit down.

'A bit of Philip-like chivalry never hurt anyone, right?' he said, with a grin on his face. Normally Hermione would have muttered something along the lines of "show off", or she would have swatted him on the arm, but today she smiled absentmindedly and sat down. Harry looked at her puzzling.

'Are you alright, Hermione?'

She looked at the scrambled eggs in front of her, and debated for a second, but then she decided that she should ask him. The mask had to come off. No more "what ifs", no more filling in for the other person. Communication was key, so she would use it.

'I'm fine. It's just... Can I ask you a question?'

Harry narrowed his eyebrows.

'You, brighest-witch-of-her-age, Hermione Granger, asking me a question? I thought you knew everything!'

'I... Oh sod off, you,' she groaned, rolling her eyes at him. Harry grinned and sat down as well and, pouring them both some orange juice.

Hermione had been struggling with these thoughts since the day after Boxing Day. They had been snogging and groping and whatnot, and Harry had treated her to the best of his abilities, as she was used to by now. But when she suggested to him to return the favor in terms of oral sex, Harry had become visibly nervous and told her that she could, but not right now. This had made her think. The focus would always be on her pleasure, on her climax, not on his, and that worried her. Was it her fault? I did mess up the first time, she thought critically, I hurt him. I didn't know what to do and so I hurt him. I must have scared him off. But then again, he had allowed her to touch his member last evening, so it couldn't have been that traumatizing for him. Right? But now she thought of it - it had been really quick, and Harry had acted quite fussy...

She had never noticed before that Harry might have been self-conscious about his sexuality. When he was dating Ginny, they had been very sexually active, to the point of it being annoying and awkward. When their relationship broke down, Harry had had quite some one-night-stands, and she knew that they had given him the experience that she was now benefiting from. So why was he shy with her, of all people? But, every time she thought about bringing it up, Harry had done something incredibly thoughtful and sweet, and it felt like being overly critical at her part as well. He is doing everything he can to please you, Hermione, she thought to herself. He is being so nice, so gentle. Why would you bother him with these mundane questions of yours?

But now she felt she didn't have any other choice. She was worried, and when she was, she was very bad at hiding it, especially from Harry.

'It's... A weird question, actually. But I do hope that you answer it seriously.'

Harry raised one eyebrow, but nodded to show that he was okay with that.

'How... How far did you and Ginny go? Exactly?'

Harry tried to keep his face straight, but he didn't really manage.

'Seriously? Is that what you want to know?'

'I know it's silly, but-...'

'All the way,' Harry answered, directly. 'I actually believe we had sex the first time we were alone together after the War. Why are you interested in that?'

'Oh, right. So you didn't take it easy with her? You just... Went all the way, immediately?'

'Well,' Harry shrugged. 'I mean... Yeah. We were kind of worked up and we figured... Well, I'm ashamed to admit it but probably I figured that that was the next step.'

'Did you touch her like you touch me?'

Harry pursed his lips.

'Yes. But it didn't feel the same, Hermione. This feels a million times better, like it actually makes sense now, and-...'

'Did she touch you too?'

Harry blinked a few times, distraught by the fact that she broke off his sweet and heartfelt statement, and pondered for a bit.

'What do you mean, did she touch me?'

'You know. Like I do, sometimes. With her hands. Or... Other parts of her body.'

'Why are you interested in that?'

'I... Have a point, I promise. Unless you don't feel comfortable me knowing that, then of course...'

'She didn't,' Harry replied. 'She'd... Brush against it, I guess, but she never actually... No, she didn't.'

'Never?' Hermione asked, astounded.

'Well, she didn't exactly like penises,' Harry said with a snicker. 'She kind of avoided it, when she could. That should have been a sign for me, I suppose.'

'And with the one-night-stands you had?' Hermione pressed on.

'My God, Hermione-...'

'Again, if you're not comfortable-...'

'I am! It's just. Well. No, not really. I touched them, but they were not really interested, or-... I also didn't want them to-...' Harry gulped and couldn't look her in the eye, it seemed.

'They wanted to get laid by the Chosen One, you see, and I was eager to show how good of a lover I was, I suppose. I was very insecure that time, you know. So...'

Hermione's heart ached. She knew Harry had used girls as a coping mechanism for a while, and she had never judged him for it, but hearing him admit it was something different.

'So, they didn't touch you either?'

Harry looked pained, like Hermione touched a nerve inside of him that he had tried to hide.

'Hermione... I barely touched myself before I was 17.'

He spoke quietly, so quietly that Hermione had almost missed it, but she didn't.

'Really?'

'Trying to defeat a bloodthirsty Evil Sorcerer doesn't really work wonders for your boner, strangely enough,' Harry quipped, hiding his emotions. 'And it also didn't help that I was aware that we could see into each other's minds. Whenever I started to think something sexual, I thought about how Voldemort would find out, and believe me - if something kills a hard-on, it's the knowledge that you're sharing all your dirty fantasies with the Dark Lord.'

'Merlin, that never occurred to me...'

'Be glad,' Harry said, taking a spoonful of egg. 'I would have a lot of wet dreams, because I didn't dare to take care of whatever business the lower part of my body was in, but still. I didn't really suffer from it, don't worry.'

'That explains so much,' Hermione whispered. 'I thought you didn't like me, that I was doing something wrong-...'

'What?!'

'It's not you're fault,' Hermione said, quickly. 'It's just my insecurity. I didn't understand why you weren't keen on me touching you, as Ron was a lot more eager to have me touch him all - the - freaking - time...'

'Did he? That's disturbing.'

'He was a teenage boy who didn't have to fear for an Evil Wizard to invade his sexual fantasies. Don't be too hard on him, Harry.'

They chuckled for a bit.

'Wait... Did he ever have those thoughts?'

'Who? Ron?'

'No. Voldemort.'

Harry looked at her for a few seconds and then howled with laughter.

'Oh my God, Hermione!'

'No! I mean, pure out of an academical standpoint, that-...'

'You perverted, little-...'

'Not like that!' Hermione squeaked, with a head that turned bright-red.

'No, he didn't. Oh, thank Merlin almighty that he didn't. That would have been... Yikes! No, Voldemort was not someone to love, and he was not someone to lust either. Luckily for me. I mean, I won't say that the war didn't leave any scars, but that would have really damaged me beyond repair. Christ!'

Harry shuddered and they both laughed, making a few jokes between them about Voldemort's absent sex-life. Harry drank the last bit of his orange juice, and asked if Hermione wanted a refill.

'No, thank you, Harry. I have one more question, though.'

'If they are about other private memories of Voldy - no, I've never seen him take a dump-...'

She laughed, slapping Harry on his arm.

'Ew! Harry! No, I mean... About this... Exploring yourself, thing. I get that you never really took the time to do that properly, right?'

'Hmm,' Harry nodded. 'But I don't mind. I like watching you. Pleasing you.'

'I've noticed,' Hermione grinned. 'And don't get me wrong - you are amazing. But I want to explore that part about your body as well. Maybe we could do that together? Tonight?'

'Oh, Hermione, I don't know,' Harry said, suddenly really nervous. 'I mean... That would-...'

'Yes, you would have to let me find my way with your body. And no, you won't be allowed to distract me by touching me with your golden fingers.'

Harry laughed, but then he rubbed his temple.

'I don't know, Hermione,' he finally sighed.

'Do you trust me?' she asked, silently.

'Of course I do.'

'We will communicate through it,' Hermione said, repeating what Harry had told her earlier on Christmas Eve. 'Whenever you tense or flinch, I'll stop. And whenever you're uncomfortable with something, I'll stop too. Allow me to make you feel as good about yourself as you have made me feel. I want to do this for you, Harry.'

Harry pressed his lips together for a moment, but then he smiled.

'Alright. If I got you over that threshold, it's only fair that I give myself to opportunity to experience that as well, right?'

'Right! And who knows what you missed out on!'

They both laughed. Harry stood up, pressed his lips against Hermione's, and charmed the plates and pan to the sink, where they began to wash themselves.

'So... Tonight?'

'Tonight,' Hermione said, eagerly.

Harry gave her a look that made her want to drag him to the bedroom right then, but she didn't. They brushed their teeth, packed their stuff, and flooed to the Ministry using Hermione's hearth. They agreed to not show any signs of their relationship at work, mostly because of the Daily Prophet, but when Harry left her side to go down to the Auror Department, he gave her a look that increased the slowly burning fire in her belly. Tonight, she thought, with a smile on her face. She would make sure to make it an unforgettable evening for her boyfriend.